lips like whiskey
by of starlight
Summary: emma had the strangest feeling that when she finally had the nerve to find out, keira would have lips like whiskey. rule63!hook. ; emmahook.


**entitled; **lips like whiskey  
**summary;** emma had the strangest feeling that when she finally had the nerve to find out, keira would have lips like whiskey. rule63!hook.  
**rating;** t  
**disclaimer;** i will never be in possession of this show, and that is probably for the best, really.  
**word count;** 1,125  
**notes;** i'm pretty much moving all my tumblr fics/drabbles onto for my sanity. so don't mind the sudden influx of stuff.

* * *

**lips like whiskey**

**.**

The first time Emma walks into _The Rabbit Hole_, she doesn't expect much. She recognizes a few people, gives a few curt nods then heads straight for the bar; she's not there to socialize, or make friends, or even have a good time.

She's there to drink. To drown her problems and her stress in some good ol' whiskey.

But it's just her luck that the one person in town who's refused to do Regina's bidding in alienating her would plop down right beside her.

"Fancy seeing you here, Swan."

Emma tries—she really does—to keep from turning to look at the person beside her, but as if pulled by some invisible force or other, Emma turns her head to the left and she locks gazes with none other than Keira Jones. "What do you want?"

Emma wants to retract the question almost immediately; it's rude and it's really nothing personal against the woman, but Emma had honestly wanted to be alone for the night after dealing with Regina earlier in the day. Unfortunately, what's said is said.

Luckily for Emma, Keira brushes off the question with a sly smirk and a quirking of one of those dark eyebrows, "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Emma focuses her attention on the bottle of whiskey and pair of tumblers set in front of them, brows furrowing considering she's pretty positive she didn't even get the chance to order a drink yet.

"I ordered." Keira chimed, smirk still etched on her face, "Told Harrison I'd been dying to see how much hard liquor Miss Swan could take." Keira's hooded ocean eyes locked with Emma's jade eyes and Emma swore she could see the mischief dancing across her features. "What do you say, Swan? Care to join me for a drink? Or ten?"

Emma snorted, eyes rolling but there was a sudden fluttering in her stomach and the need to have alcohol in her system was far greater than it'd been a few minutes ago. Without further hesitation, Emma reached for the bottle of whiskey and filled both tumblers to the brim.

Keira's brows shot up in slight surprise as Emma took her tumbler and drained it in one go, but didn't comment. She took hers, and did the same.

Almost instantly, Emma felt warmth travelling through her system; a nice, soothing warmth that went cold the minute Keira pulled the bottle from Emma's hands and their fingers brushed, sending a sudden jolt coursing through her.

Emma didn't quite understand it; sure she'd never really let herself experiment, and get that whole phase out of her system as a teenager, but that kind of thing had never really seemed like a legitmate excuse to Emma. She firmly believed nobody should really need the excuse to feel attracted to someone, physical or otherwise. And while Emma could not deny that Keira was perhaps one of the most gorgeous women she'd ever laid eyes on, Emma had never in her life, felt even the smallest tug of attraction towards any other woman before. _Especially_ not like this.

"See something you like, Swan?"

Keira's words took her by surprise, as did the knowing smirk on her lips and blood rushed to her face, leaving her looking not quite as embarrassed as she actually felt. Emma reached for the bottle again, careful to avoid any skin to skin contact before simply drinking straight from the bottle.

A small part of Emma swore she could taste Keira's lips on that bottle— it was ridiculous, of course, considering they'd been using glasses but Emma had it set in her mind that if they were to ever kiss, Keira's lips would taste just like whiskey.

Emma's eyes took that moment to sneak a glance at Keira's rosy lips and she found herself taking another deep chug from the bottle when Keira's hand was suddenly placed over hers and Emma sort of just froze.

"Easy there, Swan." Keira murmured, slowly prying the bottle from Emma's hand and setting on the bartop. "Let's not give your good-two-shoes roommate a reason to dislike me all the more. So let's get you back to your place before drink yourself into a comatose state."

Keira's words were basically going in one ear and out the other, and not because Emma was feeling the buzz of drinking hard liquor too fast on an empty stomach. No, it was Keira's hand holding hers, pulling her to her feet and leading her through the bar. It was the fluttering in her stomach that had gone from a gentle breeze to a full on hurricane.

Emma wasn't quite sure how long they took but Keira got her to the apartment she shared with Mary-Margaret without a hitch and even pried the house keys from her grasp to help her inside and into bed, which honestly, only served to fluster her and make her that much more useless.

"Tsk, tsk, Swan. And here I thought you could handle your alcohol." Keira teased, bending down to pull at the laces on Emma's knee-high boots.

Emma fumbled forward then, wanting to stop her and do it herself, but her head was buzzing and she kind of found herself holding Keira's hand in the process of trying to swat it away. She stared at it for a while, wondering why Keira wasn't pulling it free before she let herself loosen the grip on her hand and found herself lacing their fingers together.

"Swan?" There was a question in there, not so much surprised as it was hesitant— something Emma was positive she'd never seen in Keira and she liked it. Liked being the one to catch her off guard amd not the other way around.

With that in mind and not much else, Emma tugged, pulling Keira towards her and crashing her lips down onto Keira's. The woman tensed, making Emma smirk against her lips.

It was as if that action yanked her back to the current situation because Keira responded urgently, almost violently; licking and sucking and biting, fingers slipping free from Emma's grasp and sliding to her waist and into her hair, pulling her closer as she kissed her hungrily, almost desperately.

When they both had to pull back for air, Keira breathed, "It's about bloody time," against her lips and all Emma could really do was laugh and brush her lips against hers again, relishing in the fact that she was right— Keira had lips like whiskey.

**end.**


End file.
